


All Secrets Known

by SPN2014



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Angst, Character Death, Family, Gen, Hell, Regret, Secrets, Souls, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:50:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPN2014/pseuds/SPN2014
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The brothers cross paths with a secretive woman from Castiel's past. However evidence is soon uncovered that suggests she might be more than just the angel's friend, leading the boys on an emotional journey that just might tear them apart. Fits between Season 9 Episodes 15 & 16.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**All Secrets Known**

**Chapter 1**

 

The brothers arrived at the entrance of the upmarket apartment building. The door man looked them both up and down but addressed neither of them as he somewhat begrudgingly opened the heavy double doors for them. “Not on a par with the usual clientele I guess.” Dean said too loudly for Sam who shot him a ‘shut the hell up’ glare. “Under the radar remember, maybe we can get in and out of here without spilling any blood. “Fine, fine.” Dean agreed as he pushed the button for the elevator repeatedly. Sam noted this and questioned him, “What is with you lately? It’s like you’re itching for a fight.” “It’s been a month Sam, a month and still no word from Crowley on the First Blade, or a new case for that matter. There is only so much R&R a man can take before he starts to get restless.” The doors of the elevator opened with a ding. They both stepped in and Dean hit the button for the eleventh floor. “This is what we’ve been reduced to? Running errands for Garth” “Hey it got us out of the bunker at least and on the road again for a couple of days at least.” Sam looked at the pent up Dean and continued, “I never thought I would hear you complaining that there wasn’t enough evil in the world to keep you happy. Did it ever occur to you that not being able to find a case might be a good thing?” His brother looked at him in disbelief, “Really Sam? Gift horse, torch in mouth. This is not a good thing, the big bad out there, is not gone; it’s avoiding us and us in particular. Its not like they’ve just hitched up their skirts and have run away, they are plotting something, and I don’t like.” “Gee Dean, paranoid much?” Sam said as the doors open to reveal a dark hallway in mid renovation, tiles, wood and tools lined the walls in both directions. “Is this the place?” Dean asked. “What do you think?” Sam replied taking out his torch and pointing it downwards revealing a large devils trap painted on the uncarpeted floor in front of them. They both scanned the rest of the hallway highlighting Enochian sigils and demon warding sigils painted along the floor and walls.  “This just got interesting.” Dean said as he shot his brother an impish smile.

 

There was only one door leading off the hallway. Sam hunched before it as he worked on picking the lock. The door itself was ornately decorated from top to bottom with a host of different symbols, sigils and some even the Winchesters didn’t recognise. The lock was simple and easily picked. Sam stood, “I guess human intruders aren’t high on their list of worries.” He commented as he slowly turned the handle and opened the door silently.  In front of them was a narrow hall, two doors leading off to the left and at the end one to the right. Sam took the left while his brother stayed right. Dean watched as Sam peered into the first room, it was a clean modern sparsely stocked bathroom and empty. Sam signalled this as he continued towards the next door. Dean did likewise looking back as Sam disappeared into the kitchen. The kitchen was large and spotlessly clean but it was certainly currently use, fresh fruit sat in a bowl on the counter and there were dishes drying next to the sink. Without warning pain shot from the small of his back and quickly extended through out his body. His legs gave way and he dropped to the floor convulsing for a few seconds. Someone hunched over him and placed a cloth over his mouth and nose. He was vaguely aware of a strong familiar smell that he couldn’t quite place in his confusion. He passed out before its name could come to him.

Dean was in the study across the hall, its walls lined with bookshelves, all stacked full of texts, relics and specialist ingredients. He turned when he heard a load thud, “Sammy!” he called in a whisper. He spun around and headed in to the kitchen. Sam lay on the floor; Dean knelt next to him trying to rouse him. When he got no response he tried to check for a pulse anything to let him know his brother wasn’t dead. Before he could confirm either way an arm wrapped tightly around his next closing his wind pipe and cutting off his air. He grappled at the arm trying to pry it off but to no avail, it was small but it was strong. A second arm came into view; in its hand was a rag that was placed roughly over his face. ‘Chloroform, damn it,’ was his last thought before he too passed out.

 

He had no idea how long he was out for but his head felt muggy as he slowly opened his eyes. He was no longer in the kitchen; he was now sitting in a heavy metal chair with his wrists securely tied to the arms by thick leather straps. “You ok?”  Sam asked who was next to him in an identical situation. “I’ll live.” he replied as he tried to shake his head clear. The room was empty except for the two chairs in the centre which were bolted to the floor in the centre of a devils trap. There were no windows and only one door which was directly in front of them. Dean pulled at his wrist straps, and noticed a two inch cut to his forearm. “Yeah, me too” Sam said trying to twist his arm to show a similar mark. “Holy water and salt too, I’m guessing by the taste of my lips.” he added. Dean automatically licked his and he too could taste salt. The collar of his shirt was damp and cold. “So, hunters.” he said. “Did you get eyes on them?” Sam shook his head, “Got me from behind with what I’m guessing was a stun gun.” “Ouch!” Dean remarked sympathetically. “Tell me about it.” Sam continued, “Haven’t seen anyone since I woke up.” “Well if we are dealing with hunters’ maybe we can reason with them.” Dean remarked hopefully “Hay, you out there?” he shouted.

The room remained silent for another minute or two,  he was about to shout out again when they heard the lock turning. The heavy door was pulled open and they were joined in the room by a woman in her early thirties, her mousey blonde hair pulled back in an untidy pony-tail. She was pretty but her stern face and eyes older than her years prevent it from being immediately obvious. She was of slight lean build average height, but she walked into the room with a confidence that told them she was stronger than she looked. Her boot cut jeans were old and well worn so too were her boots. She wore a plan black tee-shirt that hung too loose on her. She stared at the two brothers for a moment and Sam thought he saw a flash of sadness cross her face before she finally spoke. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you find this place?” There was no fear hidden behind her obvious anger. Sam was first to address her “Look, I think there has been a misunderstanding,” she quickly cut him off. “A misunderstanding, you two broke into my home, how have I misunderstood that?” “Well, I guess you haven’t,” Dean replied. “But you’re a hunter, we’re hunters too.” He continued, “As my brother here said we believe the misunderstanding was with our friend, the person who sent us here. I think he got his wires crossed because he told us that this place was empty. Garth can be a bit flaky at times.” Their captor looked openly surprised, “Garth, Garth sent you here? As in skinny dude who likes to hug, Garth?” Sam was relieved, “Yeah, that Garth, he knew we were close and sent us a text messages with this address, asking us to pick up an old book on woo-doo he thought might be might be stashed here. She was shaking her head, “Garth doesn’t know about this place.” She put her hands into her pockets and pulled out the Winchesters cell phones. “The one on the left.” Dean told her which had the message. She scrolled through the messages until she found Garths, again she frowned. “You pair of idiots.” She scolded them, “Have you ever gotten a text from Garth before that didn’t include five or six emoticons. He could be at Deaths door and he would still finish it with a cute frowny face.” She looked up and the boys. “This may have come from Garths phone but he didn’t write it.” She pushed a button and held the phone to her ear. “Ringing out.” She turned and left the room pushing the door closed behind her. “Well isn’t she a just charming, not paranoid at all. A real bundle of kittens.” Dean said sarcastically.

 

It was over half an hour before the door opened again. “I’ve called every number I have for Garth and every hunter that knows him and haven’t been able to locate him.” She looked genuinely concerned for his safety. “I have sent someone to look for him.” She walked over to Sam and began undoing his wrist straps. “I’m going to untie you both, but you will have to remain here with me until I hear word back on Garth.” She finished freeing Sam and moved on to Dean, “I can trust you two to behave.” It was a statement not a question. “It shouldn’t be too long before we get news.” She left the room again but this time left the door open assuming they would follow. The cell door led into the study though a hidden door behind one of the bookcases. She kept walking and led them into the kitchen. She took three beers from the fridge and handed on to each of the boys. Ever the gentleman, Sam began the pleasantries “Sorry, We haven’t been introduced, I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean.” Dean nodded in acknowledgement with the beer bottle already up to his lips. “We didn’t catch your name.” Sam continued. “Alice, I’m Alice Staley.” The brothers exchanged glances as she took a drink from her bottle. “So, Alice, just you here, alone?” Dean questioned. “Why, you thinking about making a break for it?”  “Eh, no, I just, its just, there’s not many hunters that could get the drop on either of us, let alone both of us.” He explained. “Yes, it’s just me. I maybe short compared to you two giants but I’m quick and strong, plus you were in my territory, I had the upper hand. I hope I didn’t bruise your ego too much” she said with mock concern.  “So,” Sam said hoping to change the subject and lighten the mood. “Nice place you got here.” “Yeah, it belongs to a friend, he is letting me stay her a while.” “Is this the same friend you have searching for Garth?” Dean said still sulking from her earlier ridicule.  Alice’s phone began to buzz in her pocket, ignoring Dean’s question, she hurriedly answered it. “Hello…Thank you that’s a relief…..Yeah I’ll do it now, give me a couple of minutes.” She hung up the phone and addressed the boys, “He’s fine, a little banged up but that’s been taken care of. A couple of demons had him in a trailer out in Nevada somewhere. He is back home now.” She opened a press under the sink and took out a can of black spray paint. “Hold on a second,” Dean said as he followed her out into the hall and to the front door. She opened the door of the apartment and headed out to the hallway, “Walk and talk” was all she said. Dean rolled his eyes and followed her. “You said Nevada and now he is home, how is that even possible.” He paused as he watched her spray a black line through each of the Enochian sigils she passed. It took longer than he was proud of for the penny to drop. “You have a fricken angel in your pocket. God damn it.” He wasn’t happy about it. She finished the final sigil and brushed passed him in the narrow hallway. “And there I was, thinking you brother was the smart one.” She headed back in to the apartment, Dean closely following, “Sam, we gotta get out of here, she’s working with an angel.”  Sam standing in the door of the kitchen stepping aside as he said, “Ah, no Dean, she’s working with our angel.”  Behind Sam Castiel stepped forward unaware of how good his accidental comic timing had been. “Neither of you should be here.” He said in lieu of a salutation. Cas shot Alice a knowing look and placed a hand on each of the boy’s shoulders. In a heart beat they were back in the Men of Letters bunker.

 

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean barked. “I apologise, but it is for your own good. Associating with her is dangerous for everyone one involved.” Cas said vaguely. “What are you talking about?” Sam questioned. “I’m not sure yet, the demons holding Garth we’re quite low level, they didn’t know who was giving the orders, let alone why.” He paused and gave each brother a look that pleaded them to let this go. Neither man seemed about to do that so choosing his next words carefully he continued. “Someone out there knows more than they should and wanted you in that apartment for reasons that are as yet unknown to me. However we can safely assume it wasn’t for the betterment of man kind. You two need to let this go. It need not involve either of you.” “But you do know who she is, you know that woman.” Sam said questioningly. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her in some time but yes we once know each other.” Dean smiled at Sam “Do you know her – know her?” he asked. The angel rolled his eyes, “if you mean in the carnal sense then no, I believe the best way to explain the situation would be as she describes it ‘Witness Protection’ and the apartment she referred to as a ‘Safe House’.”  “Not a great safe house if the demons were able to find it.” Dean commented. “I do not have the answer to that. Only Alice and I had knowledge of its existence. It is indeed a worrying situation. ” Cas added. “What is? We still have no idea what is going on, you have told us nothing.” Sam said impatiently. “That being said I must go, I will need to move her to a new location now that this one has been compromised.” And with that he was gone. Dean turned to Sam, “Shifty Cas never bodes well, does it?” he said as he headed for the laptop. “You gonna do like he asked and let this go?” Sam asked. “Like hell I am, are you insane? Since when has being kept in the dark about Cas’ plans ever been a good thing. If like Cas said the demons wanted us there, you think they’re not going to try again just ‘cause this time it didn’t work out. Plus why? What’s their end game?” He opened the laptop and powered it up. “Why don’t you give Garth a call, see if he is ok and if he remembers anything that might help us. I’ll see what the world wide web has to say about our new friend Alice.”

 

“You ready?” Castiel said as he popped back into existence in the kitchen of the safe house. “Holy crap Cas, you really need to wear a bell or something.” She was packing food from the fridge and stuffing it into a large back pack. She stopped, dropped the bag and gave the angel a hug. He hugged back. “It’s so good to see you again. It’s been a while.” She released him and he asked, “How are you? You know, after seeing them?” She shot him a sad smile. “It certainly was a shock; I don’t know how I feel really, its best not to dwell on it, it won’t do me any good.” She scanned the kitchen for any other perishables that she had missed.

“I can’t imagine the boys are too happy with you right now, what did you tell them?” She picked up the fruit bowl and poured its contents into the bag. “No, they are not, I didn’t tell them anything except that they need to let it go.” Emma scoffed “Yeah, I can see that happening. Any idea why they were sent here, how could someone know I’d be here?” “No, I have no idea, bringing the Winchesters here could mean someone knows more than they should, I don’t like it.” the angel said “Me neither,” she answered “this place was just beginning to feel like home. Cas looked uncomfortable. “What is it?” she asked. “Maybe it would be prudent to come clean with them, if the demons know what happened perhaps it would be better, in this situation, to pre-empt them and tell the boys the truth on our own terms?” Alice shook her head, “I thought of that too,  too risky, what if we’re wrong, I mean look at all the crap we have here maybe they really just wanted to get there hands on some old woo-doo book. With all the wardings I have up, they would have to send in humans, they certainly couldn’t do it themselves. They may have no idea I even exist. A complete coincidence.” She closed the bag and continued, “Look, its better if I just disappear again, go totally off the grid.” Cas didn’t argue with her. “The cabin?” was all he said. “The cabin,” she confirmed as she threw the back pack over her shoulder and picked up the suit case that was already packed sitting on the floor. “Right, let’s get going.” She said trying to seem cheerful about the prospect of the cabin. The angel touched her shoulder and they were gone. 

 

The cabin was remote and isolated, twenty miles of hills and dense forest separated it from the nearest town. The dirt road leading to it was over grown from lack of use and unless you knew where to look you probably wouldn’t even consider it a road.  The cabin its self was small but comfortable, kitchen, living room toilet and bedroom, not much else. It had its own electricity generator and contact could only be made with the outside world with the CV radio or satellite phone.  Out back there was tool shed and a 4x4 parked next to it under a tarp for any supply runs into town. “I can’t say I’m happy to see the place again.” She admitted looking around the small kitchen, it was a far cry from the apartment kitchen she had been used to. “As soon as I know its safe we can move you somewhere more populated but for now..” Alice interrupted him “I know, low profile.” She looked at his unhappy face. “You know this is the right thing to do, don’t you?” she said softly. “Yes,” he replied, “I am not comfortable however, lying to the Winchesters. It has taken a lot to win back their trust.” Alice walked to the angel and took his hand, “I know and I’m sorry to put you in the middle of this again but it’s for their own good. Nothing good can come from stirring up the past.” She embraced him again and again he reciprocated. “I had better go.” He finally said and she was alone again. She sighed to herself and walked from the kitchen to the living room to find every text, relic and ancient weapon that had been housed in the apartment now in a pile in the centre of the room.  The angel had thought it was better to bring everything than to leave it behind for anyone to find. “Well at least I’ll be busy.” She said to herself as she began to try and find everything a logical home in the much smaller cabin.

 

Sam hung up the phone and rejoined Dean in the library who was still in front of the laptop reading a printout while leaning back in the chair. “Garth is fine, but no info for us. He was jumped by a couple of demons and taken to the desert. They held him there for a couple of days before Cas came for him. They never spoke to him or each other around him. Either very careful or just unsocial. Dead end I’m afraid. How about you?” he asked hoping Dean had more luck. “No trace of our Alice Staley online, big surprise there. He sat forward sliding the printout across the table to him. “So I had a look into the building to see if there was a paper trail I could follow. It was originally a hotel in the late twenties, quite the place to be in its hay day. Most floors now have been converted into apartments.  The eleventh floor is one of the last to be undated. A wealthy couple bought if a couple of years ago and started the renovations. The husband died of an aneurism about three months in. Turns out he had a second and a third family tucked away. Everything including the apartment has been in probate ever since.” Sam scanned the headline on the page he had been given, ‘Wives (3) Battle Over Bigamists Millions.’ Dean continued his story. “So I had a chat with the buildings manager, he swears that nobody has been on the eleventh floor in over a year. Safety inspector found the place to be full of asbestos, so it’s been off limits to everyone until the lawyers can agree who gets what.” “So another dead end.” Sam said finishing Deans thought. “Now what?” he asked. “Damned if I know.” Dean replied.

 

It had been a month since Cas had left Alice at the cabin, in that whole time she had not been in contact with anyone, not a word from Castiel but thankfully no more run ins with the Winchesters either. All though she would have welcomed a visit from the angel though; she was beginning to run low on pretty much everything and was now aware that a trip into town was quickly becoming inevitable. Turning off the lamp next to her bed she plunged herself into a world of complete darkness. The cloudy sky had robbed room of any light from the moon. She had been here long enough and had enough warding around her that this darkness held no fear over her. Even still sleep was slow to come, the prospect of a trip out of the wilderness and into town both excited and worried her. She knew she was taking a risk heading out without any word from Cas but the angel had a habit of overlooking the fact that humans had basic needs that needed to be filled like food and toilet paper. She had maybe enough dried food to last another couple of days but more importantly she hadn’t seen another human in over three weeks or had a decent coffee for that matter. Decision made, she was going into town first thing tomorrow. Hit the local diner for pancakes and coffee before stocking up at the store. With her head now full of images of bacon and maple syrup she finally drifted off to sleep.

 

It was still pitch black but Alice knew she was dreaming, she knew this dream, she had been here many times before and it was always the same. The smell, the heat and the dampness never changed. She knew what was coming but had never been able to stop it or wake herself, not until the entire scene had played out first. She lay a wooden table, no restraints held her in place yet she was unable to move a muscle. He stood over her; his familiar face illuminated by an eerie dull yellow light from an unseen source. It cast ghoulish shadows across his ordinarily handsome features. He took his time readying his instruments next to her and then met her fearful gaze. He picked up his tool of choice and shot her a sickly sweet smile. “Let’s get started.” He whispered as he looked from her to the thin blade in his hand.  Tonight’s dream had him working on her thigh but it didn’t seem to matter where he started, the routine was always the same. He began by skinning the area, slowly and methodically, pausing every now and then to admire his handy work. Internally she would thrash about and scream until her throat felt raw but outwardly she lay motionless. Frozen from head to toe, tears would stream down her face and temples, the only thing belying her true feelings.  Once he was happy with what he had cleared he would begin to cut deeper, removing slice after slice of flesh and muscle from the exposed area. Everything he eradicated he would place in a neat pile on her chest between her breasts so that they could both appreciate his accomplishments. Any time throughout the process she would pass out from the pain he would patiently stop and take the time to awaken her, tenderly drying her face of tears and sweat, just so he could begin again. He would speak softly to her, assuring her that she was doing great and of how very proud he was of her. To hear his voice like this turned her stomach. He eventually reached her thigh bone, abandoning his trusty blade in exchange for a small branding iron. Not heavy and thick like you would use on livestock more similar to a soldering iron. Carefully and slowly he would burn his signature in to her exposed bone. This was thankfully the least painful part of the process however the smell of burning flesh and bone filled her throat and lungs until she wanted to vomit. Finally when the ‘artist’ was finished signing his work he would, for no other reason that the sheer pain of it,  flush out her gaping wound with a mixture that from the smell she guessed include a heavy and generous helping of vinegar, among other corrosive and acidic properties. The agony would radiate from the source through to every nerve ending in her body, building and building until she could see and feel nothing but the blinding white hot pain.

 

She bolted upright back in the safety of her own bed; the room was now a dull grey in the predawn light. She was covered in sweat and her heart was pounding. Her hand instinctively reached for her thigh and she rubbed it in an effort to remove the sickly sensation that lingered.

 

“Come on Dean, look there’s a motel just up the road. Lets call it a night; I really don’t fancy spending another night in the car.” His older brother shot him an impatient look. “Three town Sammy, three innocent families and three times we’ve let this son of a bitch slip through out fingers. I’m tired of chasing this black eyed freak across the country too but we finally might just have the jump on him, and I’ll damned if I’m going to let another family get slaughtered just because we need our beauty sleep.” Sam rolled his eyes but he knew Dean was right. He balled up his jacket and wedged it between the passenger window and his head. “Alright, but wake me in couple of hours and I’ll take the wheel, no point in us trying to tackle a psychotic demon with no shut eye at all.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He closed his eyes and let the vibrations of the car lull him off to a fragile sleep.  It was a little after ten a.m. when arrived at the one horse town. Sam pulled the car into a side alley off Main Street and shook Dean awake. “We’re here, now what?” His eyes still closed dean gave a one word answer, “Breakfast.”

 

Dean when through his logic with Sam between mouthfuls of the breakfast special. “Every time his guy surfaces it’s been the same MO. A husband and wife are celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary. And according to the county registrar there is only one couple within two days drive of the last murder that were married ten years ago today, Joe and Susan Mahon. Some time tonight our boy is coming for them and their two kids.” He showed Sam a scrap of paper with an address scribbled on it. “But this time we’ll be waiting for him instead.  Sam was about to order two fresh coffees when a boom rang out from across the street. Everyone in the diner turned toward the source of the sound as a middle aged man ran from the store across the road, shot gun in hand and sprinted down a nearby alley. Neither of the brothers hesitated they were instantly on their feet. As Sam headed towards the store Dean took off in pursuit of the gun man. He turned the corner of the alley just in time to see the shooter fall to his knees, his head tilted bask as black smoke billowed from his mouth. He dropped to the ground and lay there motionless. His body now free of its demonic stow away was succumbing to some previous injury. Dean ran over and knelt next to him. “I saw everything,” the shooter said, “everything he did, but I couldn’t stop it. He killed those poor families. He did it; he did it for you, so that you would follow”. The man grabbed Dean’s collar and pulled him closer with the last of his strength. “He wants you to find her, that’s why you needed to be here.” And with that he was dead.

 

Alice made it into town a lot earlier than she had intended. After her nightmare, she had been eager for a change of scenery. The local store was still shut so she headed straight to the diner and ordered pancakes and bacon with out even looking at the menu. It was delicious but she didn’t possess the appetite she had hoped and only managed to finish half the meal. From where she sat she could see the front of the store. It was a little before ten a.m. when she saw someone inside flip the closed sign over to open. She left her meal unfinished and headed straight over. Now that she was here she felt exposed and vulnerable and wanted nothing more than to get back to the safety of the cabin as soon as possible. She pushed the trolley though each aisle of the store filling it with what she would need for the next couple of months or so.  She was greeted at the register by an elderly man whose name badge told her he was called Karl. “Hello there, Ma’am.” He said as he rang up her items, as he scanned the last couple, he asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with today?” She was placing her thing into the trolley and turned to him to ask for some batteries. However he was staring directly behind her and the terror in his eyes told her it wasn’t good. She spun around to see a middle aged man standing in the door way with a shot gun locked on her. He wasted no time, said nothing, just looked her up and down before pulling the trigger. She was immediately thrown back as her chest exploded in front of her in what felt like fire. She slumped to the ground into a sitting position with her back against the counter. She could feel a warm dampness spread across what was left of her shirt. It was spreading too quickly and she was all too aware that this wasn’t something you came back from. She looked down at her chest and tried to bring her hands up to hold in whatever she could.  But they lay motionless and unresponsive by her sides. The gun man was already gone and Karl was outside shouting for help. The darkness began to creep in from the corners of her vision and although she fought to remain conscious, it closed in around her until it engulfed her whole world. She was barely alive when Sam burst through the doors. “Alice?” he said recognising her instantly. He applied pressure to her wound hoping that she could hold on until help arrived. “Come on, Alice, stick with me.” He pleaded with her “Castiel, We need you.” He shouted to the universe in general.

 

Dean arrived on the scene just as the angel appeared. He looked pale and haggard, “We need to leave now.” he said urgently and transported all of them back to the secluded cabin. The brothers now stood in the cramped living room, while Alice lay still bleeding on the small couch. Castiel was by her side, he placed a hand on her chest, white light passed from him into her wound. But to both Sam and Dean’s surprise her wound didn’t fully heal. Cas sat on the floor next to her clearly exhausted. “That’s the best I can do for now.” “What’s going on? Are you alright?” Sam asked. Cas pulled back his coat to reveal a wound of his own, just below his ribs. “There are still many of my brothers and sisters out there who rightly feel it is my fault they have been cast out of their home.” Dean stepped in for a closer look, but the angel pushed him off, “I’ll be fine, as will she, I have stopped her bleeding and repaired any damage to internal organs. She has however lost a lot of blood and will need to rest to heal fully.” With Dean’s help he pulled himself off the floor and sat in the arm chair next to him. “I’m going to pass out now for a while.” He said in a matter of fact way, that only Castiel could pull off, as his head slumped to one side.

 

A couple of hours had passed since they had arrived at the cabin. Even in his weakened state, the angel had somehow also managed to transport the Impala and Alice’s 4x4 packed with rations back too. The boys had cleaned and bandaged both of the patient’s wounds and restacked the cupboards. They were sitting at the table in the kitchen having well earned beers. “So it’s pretty obvious that he was referring to Alice.” Sam added as his brother finished recounting the conversation with the dying man in the alley. “Yeah, but why?” he asked, “I don’t trust this Alice chick, cagey seems to be her default setting.” He stood up and finished his beer. “There has to something in this cabin that can tell us who she really is.” He headed into the living room and started rooting through the bookcases and desk looking for answers. Sam following his brother lead headed in the bedroom to do the same. Dean had finished searching the living room and had come up empty. “There is not a personal item in this cabin, no photos, mail, laptop or diaries, nothing.” he said as he entered the bedroom to see if Sam has found anything useful. Sam was sitting on the bed with a small shoe box on his lap. He looked up at his brother, “You are going to want to see this.” he said handing him one of the photographs in his hands. Dean’s face squinted in confusion, “That’s Bobby,” he said staring at the picture of the man he considered and loved as an adoptive father. Seeing his face again caused a fresh sense of loss. He looked just as Dean remembered although maybe ten years younger in the photo, a big beaming smile on his face. His arms were wrapped tenderly around an equally younger Alice. Sam didn’t give Dean anytime to say anything else before handing him a second one. This was of Sam himself no more than sixteen or seventeen sitting on Bobby’s beat up old couch with a twenty something year old Alice. They were both laughing; her right arm was behind Sam’s head, two fingers sticking up playfully giving him the bunny ears. “When was this taken?” Dean asked. “I have no idea.” Sam replied handing Dean another picture. It was of a couple in formal suit and dress under a banner that read ‘Sioux Falls Senior Prom – 1996’. It took Dean a second to realise that the people in the picture were him and Alice. “What the hell? I never went to prom.” He remarked. “These must be faked.” Dean snapped, tossing the photo onto the bed, “I don’t see how, these are old school Polaroid’s, nothing digital about them.” “What else is in there?” Dean asked not liked Sam’s answer. “Not much an old concert stub and ring – Irish Claddagh I think. And one last photo.” He said handing it to Dean, It was a group shot. Running from left to right was Bobby, Alice, Sam, Dean and their father John. “What the hell?” Dean said. “Dean” a voice called from the other room. “Sleeping beauty number one has awoken. Let’s find out, shall we.” Sam said as he put the lid back on the box and carried it with him into the living room.

 

Cas was upright once again.” How are you feeling?” Dean asked. “Healed” he responded. He turned to Alice and again placed his hand on her wounds once again. He seemed to have more luck this time. When he finished, he stepped back as Alice’s eyes began to flicker and blink open. It took here a moment to get her bearings but she was eventually able to focus in on Castiel and she slowly sat up. “Am I glad to see you.” She said. She them noticed the Winchesters standing behind him, “You two not so much” turning back to the angel,” What in Gods name are they doing here?” she asked. “Eh, you know just saving your life,” Dean barked at her. “You’re welcome, by the way.” She tried to stand up realised that her legs were still the consistency of jelly, she thought better of it and remained sitting. Without saying anything or giving her anytime to compose herself Sam pointedly placed the shoebox on the coffee table in front of Alice. It was Dean who spoke, “You two have a lot of explaining to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**All Secrets Known**

**Chapter 2**

 

Alice looked at the box in front of her, the colour drained from her face with the realisation of what the brothers had found. Cas, still unaware of what was contained in the box looked back and forth from the brothers to Alice in confusion. She looked back at him apologetically and handed him the box without opening it. The angel looked through the contents and then back to Alice disappointedly. ”These were to be destroyed like the others, why would you keep these?” He scolded her. “I know, I know I’m an idiot, “she replied. “I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’d been on my own for so long, they were all I had left.” She put her face in her hands remaining silent for a minute or two. She could still feel the glare of the Winchesters on her, she was going to have to give them something, tell them something to defuse the situation. She had fantasized about coming clean to them so many times but it had always been under ideal conditions where she was sure the outcome would be favourable, that they would take it well and welcome her back with open arms. But this situation was far from what she wanted. She rubbed her face trying to clear her head as she looked back up, the brothers still stared at her expectantly and the angel was saying nothing, allowing Alice to handle this as she saw fit.

“First off, let me level with you,” she began but was interrupted by Dean who scoffed “Well that would be a first.” Sam elbowed his brother in the ribs, “Shut up and let her talk.” Alice frowned; she knew this wasn’t going to go down well. “I have no intention of telling you two the full story, I can give you some info; details I feel are safe for you to know but no more. That will have to be enough.” “We’ll tell you when it’s enough,” Dean interrupted again impatient to know what the hell was going on. He pulled up a chair and sat accusingly across from her, “Now start talking.” he demanded. “Ok so you’ve seen the photos,” she began, “so I guess I start there, my name, which I’m assuming by now you know is not Alice Staley.” The brothers said nothing leaving the floor hers. “My real name is Emma, Emma Singer, Bobby Singer was my father.” This got a reaction, “You better watch your mouth girl. We knew Bobby, we knew him better than anyone and he had no kids, short of us to anyway.” He was furious at the inclusion of his old friend in the lie. All but ignoring him, she continued. “Regardless what you think Dean, Bobby was my father and Karen my mother. I was seven when she…” she paused and swallowed clearly uncomfortable talking about her mothers death. “...when she died, Bobby raised me on his own since then.” She looked up, trying to read the boys faces, they stared at her sceptically. “What she is telling you is the truth.” Cas interjected.  Emma turned to the younger of the men, knowing he may be easier to convince.  “I used to baby-sit you, Sammy, when your dad and brother weren’t around.” She shot him a smile but he didn’t reciprocate. “And you,” she said turning to Dean, “We used to steal my dads beer and drink it in a beat up old Caddy at the back of the yard, you some how managed to get the radio to work and we’d sit out there for hours listening to music.”  Dean stood and towered over her, “Well this is a beautiful trip down fictional memory lane but how about you cut the bull and stop wasting our time.” This was going worse than she feared; even with Castiel’s endorsement they didn’t believe any of it. All she was trying to do was protect these two stubborn jerks for as long as she could, if they kept pushing at this, they could be the masters of their own downfall. “Fine.” she said trying her best to sound defiant but disappointed herself with the pain and hurt she heard in her own voice. “A little under five years ago, not long after Cas here pulled you out of hell,” Dean visibly flinched at the mention of his time in the pit. Sam placed a hand on his brother’s elbow, stopping him before he could lash out at her. “Something, something irreparable happened to us a group; it weakening us, to a point where stopping Lucifer and Michael, or any big bad for that matter, was an impossibility.”

She stood, the strength having finally returned to her legs. She walked away from Dean who was standing too close to her and crossed the room trying to get some personal space, room to breathe. She leaned against the desk and continued. “I was the centre, the cause of the issue. It was decided, that it was better for all, if I go. More than that, though or it wouldn’t be enough. It needed to be as if I had never been. I needed to be forgotten.”  She paused again trying to compose herself, remembering that time was more emotional for her than she wanted to let on to the Winchesters. She cleared her throat and went on. “We decided it was for the best, and by we, I mean you two, Cas, Bobby and I. We all realised that it was the only solution.”

“This is total bull.” Dean erupted no longer able to hold his anger or his tongue. “If you knew Bobby like you say you do,” He crossed the room and stood threateningly close once again. ”He would never have agreed to that, he would never have allowed it. Family was everything to that man, blood or otherwise.” Emma feeding off his rage and her own anger at herself for the tears she could feel welling up inside her also lost her composure. “Now you listen to me, you stupid, stubborn, son of a bitch, that man was my world and I his. Letting me go was the hardest thing he ever had to do, second only to putting my mother down. But he did, we both gave up everything, everything we had for you, to protect you two and the whole friggin’ world for that matter.” She paused, trying to steady herself before she said more than she should. “I don’t want to tell you any of this; the only ones who want this story told are some sick twisted demons and you two idiots.” She ran her fingers through her hair. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. “You don’t have to believe any of it, to be honest it is probably better you don’t. But it’s the truth and it’s the only one you’re getting.” Dean was about to retaliate but Sam stepped in. “You said we all agreed, so Dean and I just went along with it, let Bobby daughter walk way, I find it hard to believe?” She finally broke her glare from Dean and turned to Sam.  “Yes, we all had to consent or Cas wouldn’t agree to it.” She answered. “It was a big task, it wasn’t enough that you lot forgot, everyone who ever knew me, every hunter we had met or helped, everyone who knew that Bobby had a daughter, everyone in Sioux Falls, from kindergarten teachers to my high school class. No paper trail, no history, no evidence that I ever existed. I was ghost.” Sam turned to Castiel, “That’s huge, I mean even for you, that would be a massive job.” “It was,” the angel said, “It wasn’t easy, I needed to enlist help from a number of loyal angels to complete it. They in turn agreed, for the greater good, to their memories of it wiped also.” Cas explained.

 

“Ok so say we believe you.” Sam said, playing devils advocate, “Why would the demons want with us remembering now? I mean both Lucifer and Michael are in the cage, we defeated them and stopped Armageddon.” “I don’t know to be honest, I don’t think they even know the full story, otherwise why not just come along and tell you out right.” Emma said, “We don’t know their reasoning behind this, I don’t need to, I know that if you two find out the full truth, it will not end well, for anyone involved.” Without acknowledging her Dean turned and addressed Sam, “We’ve seen and heard some bat shit crazy stuff in our time, but this, this is just insane. You’re not buying any of this crap? Are you Sam?”  Sam looked uncomfortably at his brother, he know he wasn’t going to like his response but he answered honestly anyway. “Look, I don’t know how I feel about any of this, but like you said we have seen some crazy things, is this so hard to believe?  Besides she has a point, if there are demons out there who want us to remember the truth for what ever reasons, it can’t be good.” Sam took a small step towards Dean, “Maybe we should learn from our mistakes and not ‘pick at the wall’.” Sam’s reference to the wall Dean had Death put in his brother’s head to protect him reminded him of all the reasons he had given to Sam at the time, begging him to leave it alone. But this was different, he tried to convince himself, but he felt like he was quickly being backed into a corner, he hated being kept in the dark about anything but could see he was losing Sam, so he lashed out in defence. “Ok, so I beg you not to go poking at something and you blatantly ignore me, almost killing yourself in the process but when some random stranger shows up saying she is Bobby Singer’s daughter and suddenly your willing to follow her blindly.” The anger in Dean’s voice as he spat the words ‘random strange’ caught Emma off guard. She felt physical pain shoot across her heart. Here she was standing, feet away from two of the three people who meant the most to her in the world and they couldn’t have been further away.

 

She wanted to scream, she was sorry, she wanted to throw her arms around both of them and never let go again. But instead she did her best to appear cold and indifferent even though every second around them was killing her inside.  “Come on Dean,” Sam said, “It’s not like that and you know it. Think about it, right now we have God knows how many angry homeless angels walking the earth looking for someone to blame and a knight of hell building an army set on creating hell on earth.” Sam looked at his brother, hoping he was getting through to him. “Maybe, just maybe, we take Cas and Emma here at their word and leave this alone, for the time being anyway. We have more than enough on our plates at the moment. Why chance it?” “You have got to be kidding me? How can you consider anything she is saying to be true?” Dean hissed at his brother, “I need some air,” he said as he stormed out the door of the cabin into the night. Sam looked somewhat apologetically at Emma, “Give him some time, he’ll calm down.”

 

In the quiet of the room some obvious realisations were finally hitting home. “Should we not be high-tailing it out of here? Demons led Dean and me to you, they know where we are.” Emma answered; relieved to talk about anything that wasn’t about her and her secret. “No, we’re safe here, for the time being anyway. This cabin is an old hunter hide out. We are surrounded by a fence of devils traps made out of pure iron, the frame and rafters of this house itself are covered in all manner of wardings. They may know where we are but they haven’t a hope of getting to us.” She spoke as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed some beers. She returned and handed one to Sam and then one to Cas who looked at it then placed it unopened on the coffee table next to him. “That’s why they waited until she got to town to make a move on her.” Castiel added. “That’s another thing,” Sam asked, “why shoot you? Why try to kill you? Surely if you die your secret dies with you.” Again it was Cas who spoke. “I believe I can answer that, “he began. “if she was to die, with heavens doors tightly shut, her soul would be up for grabs. In the right demons hands a soul is like a history book, everything they want to know right there for the taking. Without the possibility of possessing her, it would be the only other way to get to her secrets. Short of torture, of course but they may assume that that route would be destined to fail.” Emma shot him a glare that let him know he had said too much. Sam spotted their interaction but said nothing.

 

Outside, the cool air had done little to calm Dean’s anger and frustration. Secrets never ended well, he knew he was right. They had been bitten on the ass too many times to think anything different. He wanted; he needed to know the truth. He knew Cas could pull off what had been suggested but he could not imagine a situation where he, Sam and Bobby would allow it to. But doubt set in, logic trying to get a hold of him, what if it was her chance to get out of the life, then maybe. What If they had done it to protect her, Bobby would have wanted his daughter to have a normal life, free of the supernatural. Flip flopping back again he thought, what sort of life did she have, alone, hold up in safe houses, her only company an occasional visit from an absent angel. She hadn’t been out of the life at all; she had been exiled to some solitary nomadic existence. Hiding from everyone she supposedly knew and loved.  That was if any of it was true in the first place. 

 

He pulled out his phone; he did have a hot line to the King of Hell after all. Surely Crowley could shed some light on what was true or not. Dean knew he couldn’t really trust a word that came out of the slippery bastard’s mouth but what else could he do.  He pushed the button and dialled the number, Dean looked at the screen no signal at all but it started to ring anyway. It didn’t seem to matter where you were; when you called the king of hell you weren’t reliant on cell towers. The call clicked over to voice mail, the demon spoke into his ear. “You’re through to Crowley, the one true leader of the under world.  If you have managed to kill that bitch Abaddon, well done great riches await you in my kingdom, If this is Abaddon, Screw you. ”

 

Dean hung up without leaving a message. He unhappily turned to head back to the cabin, before he could take a second step a familiar British accent spoke to him through the dark. “Hey, I hope that was a booty call.” Dean spun around to see Crowley standing on the opposite side of the devils trap fence. “Nice place, bit of Wako feel to it though.” “Crowley.” Dean said. “In the flesh,” he replied, “You do realise you are under siege here, there are easily three dozen of Abaddon lackeys surrounding the place. “And yet here you are.” Dean replied gruffly.  Crowley gave him a smug smile “Yeah, I may have picked off a baker’s dozen or so on my way in. Purely for shits and giggles, mind you.” He looked up and down the length of the fence, “Don’t worry if I can get in those brainless Judas’s haven’t a hope, you’re quite safe.” Crowley regarded Deans demeanour, “I’m guessing from your premenstrual mood you’re not about to try and seduce me so how about you cut to the chase, I do have a life beyond the Winchesters you know poling the electorates, if you get my meaning.”  “And the blade of course. “ Dean shot back at him. “Of course” Crowley replied. “I’m working on it.”  Dean rolled his eyes, “You ever heard of Emma Singer?” he said getting to the point. Crowley face dropped, “More importantly, what have you heard?” he asked, “I asked first.” Dean replied impatiently. He was in no mood for a run around with him. “Ok, Boy, you listen to me and heed my words very carefully.” All humour and jest had left his voice. “Poughkeepsie, a thousand times, Poughkeepsie,” Dean was startled at Crowley’s use of his and his brothers ‘go’ word. “You grab that oversized brother of yours and you go, don’t just walk away from what ever is going in that cabin back there, you run and you don’t look back.”  Dean stared at the demon in front of him trying to decide if it was fear, concern or just really good acting he was seeing. “This, what ever this is, is not going to help you. We, as in Hell, Earth and Heaven need you fighting fit to take down Abaddon and the road you are on now, will destroy you.” The demon straighten his jacket and continued, “Now, come back to me when that ginger bitch is headless and I’ll happily help you self destruct and tell you everything you want to know but until then let it go, focus on the task at hand.” Before Dean could question him any further he was gone. “God damn it!” Dean cursed to himself and headed back to the cabin. Just before he reached the door his mobile buzzed as it received a text message. “Poughkeepsie” was all it read. 

 

Back inside Emma and Sam, much to Dean’s annoyance, were in the kitchen preparing dinner together. Sam was such a sucker for a sob story, Dean thought to himself, always got too attached, way too quickly. He couldn’t bear to be around those two, playing happy estranged families, so he side stepped silently into the living room to avoid them. There was no sign if Castiel, but Dean wasn’t in a rush to see him either and was thankful for the peace and quiet. He picked up the unopened beer from the coffee table, it was no longer cold but he had drunk worse. It was certainly better than venturing in to the kitchen for a fresh one. He popped the lid and sat into more than on to the old couch.

 

Their host had set up a fold out cot in the living room for them. Cas had still not returned and with a forest full of demons they weren’t going anywhere without some angelic intervention. Dean opted for the couch, letting Sam take the cot. He was still sulking and although he had accepted the food that had been prepared, he drew the line at allowing her to make up a bed for him.  After the first hour on the uncomfortable couch he regretted his decision. His mind was racing with too many unanswered questions. He spent the next few hours just staring at the ceiling getting more and more frustrated. A little before dawn he admitted defeat and heading into the kitchen looking for a medicinal aid. To his delight he found a half empty bottle of whiskey in the larder. “Bingo” he whispered. He poured a large one and leaned against the kitchen table, staring blankly in the darkness of the living room. He spotted Emma’s door open a crack and through the gap he could make out her bed and it was empty. Curiosity got the better of him. He crept through the living room, past the still sleeping Sam to the bedroom, his drink still in hand. He leaded against the frame of the door and slowly pushed it open a little bit further, trying to get a better look. Craning his head closer to the gap he finally spotted Emma, curled up; sound asleep on the cold floor beneath the window. She had no pillow or blanket with her. Dean frowned to himself as he pulled the door back to its original position. “What the hell?” He said before returning to the couch, finishing of the last of his whiskey he lay back down. 

 

He must have fallen asleep at some point because the next time he opened his eyes the sun was up. He sat up, not feeling any better for having gotten some shut eye. He looked around the room, Sam was still out cold but the door to Emma’s room was now wide open. From the couch he could smell fresh coffee coming from the kitchen and headed in the direction of the aroma. The room was empty so he helped himself to a cup and went outside.. He found Emma standing on the porch leaning against the fence nursing her own cup. He stood next to her, both of them staring out into the dense forest in front of them. She fished a flask out of her pocket and offered it to him. “You wanna Irish up that coffee?” she said as he accepted it and poured a healthy dose into his cup. Handing it back he noticed dark circles beneath her red blood shot eyes. “Rough night?” he asked. She put the flask back in her pocket and muttered, “Something like that.” “Maybe try the bed next time.” He said. She turned and glared at him. “Sorry, the door was open, I wasn’t prying, it was just strange.” He fumbled annoyed by his own big mouth. Her face softened some what, still too tired to argue with him. “Nightmares, its nothing really, it’s just the floor, the coldness of it, helps me remember what’s real and what’s not.” That was all she was going to say on the matter as she quickly changed the subject.

“Cas was here.” “What? Where is he now?” She didn’t turn to look at him “Gone, again.” She answered. “He believes that it is safer for us all to remain here for the time being until he can figure out who is behind all this.” She didn’t seem happy about it but neither was Dean. “That’s ridiculous.” He snapped, already suffering form cabin fever as it were. “What good are we to anyone here? There is a war mounting out there and he wants us to sit it out, hiding in the middle of nowhere.” She finally turned to him. “You are free to leave anytime you want Dean. Your car is right there. There is just the matter of, oh I don’t know, a small but well armed army of demons between here and any sort of decent road.” She picked up her cup and disappeared through the cabin door. She turned back before the door closed behind her. “It’s a small cabin, I’m painfully aware of that but how about, while we are stuck here, you and I try to say out of each others cross hairs. She let the door slam behind her.

 

Crowley was not happy either; he had been in a fowl mood since he had spoken with Dean the night before. Nothing he had found out since then had done anything to help his mood, quite the contrary in fact. He had sent feelers out in every direction and he was certain he knew who was behind it all. Abaddon was the one pulling the strings on this. How had that cow found out about the long lost Singer? It had taken him a couple of years and some heavy duty dark mojo to find the missing pieces of his memory, everything pre the angel wipe and he had been there, he had been a key player. He had been holding on to this doozie for sometime now, keeping it in back pocket for when the boys became more of annoying than useful. He was getting info back from all corners of Hell and Earth, trying to figure out how much Abaddon knew and it wasn’t looking good.

She knew something big had gone down, that it required both Heaven and Hell to work together on something.  Crowley always knew that one day he would kill both the Winchesters, never doubted it. But a part of him respected the boys and wanted to see them arrive in his hell with a little dignity. What this bitch would do if she got what she wanted would rob the boys and him of an end befitting everyone involved. He felt cheated. Before him on his massively oversized mahogany desk were pages and pages of intel on his new nemesis. Where she had been sighted, occurrences linked to any demon suspected of being loyal to her. All of whom were added to an ever going list of idiots to flay once this was all over. He scanned the pages again, the link between what was in front of him and what Dean had told him earlier finally clicking into place. “That crafty bitch!” he shouted as he jumped up and stormed through the doors of his office. “I’ve got to find me an angel.”

 

Castiel popped into existence in an old abandoned warehouse some where along the coast of Florida. This wasn’t where he had been headed, this wasn’t his doing; he had been summoned here. Expecting to be surrounded by a host of avenging angels he was still annoyed to see the king of hell before him. “Crowley” he rasped. “You shouldn’t have the power to call and trap an angel.” Crowley raised his hands in an attempt to show he meant no harm. “Call yes, you would be amazed what enough money can buy when you have a world of lost and confused angels to bargain with. But trap, no, I come in peace.” Castiel frowned as Crowley continued, “We, I believe have a common enemy once again and I thought, wouldn’t it be nice to get the old team back together again. You know, fight the good fight and all that.” “Abaddon is no concern of mine. I will happily stand aside and allow you two to destroy each other. It is of no consequence to me.” Crowley stepped forward. “Thought you might see it that way, but Abaddon you see, she is a multi-tasker. She is out for more than my crown. She has also turned her attention on your dynamic duo, and I believe the Singer girl is back on the scene too.” Crowley let this sink in.

 

“Do you...” Castiel caught himself just in time, he was about to ask him if he remembered, if he remembered the part he played in this whole mess.  “Do you know what Abaddon is planning?” he asked instead. Crowley had already decided to level with the angel, put all his cards on the table. There was little or nothing Castiel could do about it now anyway, not enough angel power on his side. “Castiel, I hoped we were past the whole cloak and dagger stage of our relationship. No lies, no secrets, I know everything, what you did, what I did, our little deal. Throwing, that little Winchester wannabe, to the wolves to save his soul.” Castiel shifted uncomfortably. “If you had a hand in any of this, Crowley.”  Again he raised his hands, this time in defence. “No, no, no.” he reassured the angel. “That’s why I’m here, this is all Abaddon’s doing. I don’t know how much she knows but she certainly knows enough to be dangerous. Believe me I have nothing to gain by taking the Winchesters out of the game at this juncture.” How does she know any thing? Castiel demanded, “How do you for that matter?” “We demons are a curious and resourceful breed. Look I don’t know how she knows any of this stuff but I do know her next move.” Get to the point, Crowley.”  Cas snapped at him, he found the demon extremely annoying. “Right, right, that’s why I asked you here.” Cas frowned at the demons use of the euphemism ‘asked’ but said nothing not wanting to prolong the demon’s long winded conversation style any more that was necessary. “Abaddon knows how to reverse it, all of it. She is going to make the boys remember.” “That’s impossible I am the only one who can reverse it as I am the one who took it. And with Heaven as it currently is I doubt I even have the power to undo it if I so wished.” “I don’t know what to tell you, my intel is sound. She believes she knows how, she has uncovered a ritual and she is going for it, tonight.” Crowley said. “Tonight?” Cas asked. “Yeah it has to be tonight, planets, stars, alignments all that technical stuff, tonight at eleven sixteen to be exact. It doesn’t matter where or when you hide the boys, they don’t need to be anywhere near her, if she manages to pull this off she will scramble there heads in ways I could only dream of. Memories good bad and worse will come flowing back all at once.” “Where is she? She must be stopped.” Castiel asked.  “I have no idea; I was hoping you could use your angelic radar to locate her.” Crowley said. “No. Knight of Hell are hidden from us, courtesy of Lucifer. What about the First Blade?” Cas asked. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” the demon made a show of searching the pocket inside his coat and pulling out an empty hand. “Do you think that bitch would still be possession of her head if I had managed to find it?” Not impressed with Crowley’s mocking tone Castiel to a couple of steps closer to the King of Hell. “Well then, might I suggest that you spend the next twelve hours doubling your efforts to finding it then?” Crowley bowed in false submission and was gone.  Castiel rolled his eyes and muttered “Demons” to himself in exasperation, before he too disappeared.

 

The Trio back at the cabin were doing their best to distract themselves with busy work. Both Dean and Sam had taken the opportunity to go through some of the more unusual texts in Emma’s library. Sam had noted to Dean that it was easily on a par with Bobby’s old collection. Emma had done her best to avoid the brothers for most of the morning, knowing full well it wasn’t in either of their natures not to attempt questioning her further. She had hidden herself outside at the rear of the cabin needless chopping wood for over an hour now. Her arms were sore and tired and but she continued regardless.  It was reliving some of the frustration that was bubbling just under her surface. A little before noon Sam rounded the corner of the cabin with a bottle of water for her. He glanced from the pile of newly chopped wood to the already over flowing store house. “Planning on staying a while?” he asked sarcastically, they both knew that as the cabin had been compromised when she left, she would more than likely never return here again. “Thanks.” She said as he handed her the bottle. Now that she had stopped chopping her arms felt like dead weights.

 

She sat on the tree stump she had been balancing the logs on and drank deeply. “How are you holding up?” he asked reading the tension on her face. She shook her head but smiled warmly at him. “I’ll be honest; it hasn’t been the easiest couple of days. Certainly not the reunion I had visualised.” Sam returned her smile. “You’re tough, I can see that. It’s a trait you share with Bobby.” The comparison to her father, mean more to her than she let on, but it caused her lip to quiver and she hoped she had managed to steady it before Sam picked up on it. He immediately apologised, “Sorry I didn’t mean to…” he said, obviously noticing the emotions he had inadvertently caused. “I just wanted you to know that my gut wants to believe you. I think you are someone Bobby would have been proud to have as a daughter.” She stood and attempted to turn away before the tears took hold. But Sam’s arms were around her before she could escape them. Her face pressed against his chest she relented giving in to the embrace. Holding tight she wished more than ever that the last five years had been no more than an elaborate nightmare, that she had never left, that they had found a different way to fix everything.

 

“Well isn’t this cosy.” They both released at the sound of Deans voice. Sam turned to face his brother while Emma when the opposite direction, desperately wiping the tears from her face. Sam shot his brother a thin lipped frown, “You can be a real dick sometimes, Dean.” He said as he passed him heading back inside. Dean mouthed the word ‘what?’ and went to follow but changed his mind and approached Emma instead. Realising he wasn’t going anywhere Emma turned to face him. “You have something to say, Dean?” she asked making no attempt find hide the displeasure she took from his arrival. “Look, Sammy seems to trust you,” he began “Although his track record in that area isn’t great.” He added somewhat spitefully. “But seen as we are all stuck here for the time being I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

 

She looked at his handsome face, a face she used to find such joy in. Now she was just so conflicted, she still missed and loved him dearly. He wasn’t just an old friend, he was family, well he used to be, anyway. But he also terrified her, she knew first hand of the cruelty he was capable of. Of the pain he had so willingly and wilfully inflicted on her. How selfishly he had acted when everything went to shit and how much hurt he caused those who cared for him the most. She knew he still fought daily to live with the evil he had done, but the calm coldness in his voice reminded her of a different Dean, a darker Dean. She didn’t want to be here, she needed to somewhere else, anywhere else. “Don’t do me any favours.” she retorted as she pushed passed him. His had shot out and grabbed her arm pulling her back and preventing her exit. “But let me tell you this, when the truth comes out and it will. When I find out what your game is here,” his eyes were dark and his voice biting, “you had better pray that you are not within striking distance. Lady or not, I will put you down. Bobby was more than a father to me and Sam, and I don’t take kindly to you using his memory to play out your sick game.” She pulled her arm free and stumbled, backing away from him in fear. The pure terror in her eyes made Dean do a double take.

She quickly composed herself and her terror was replaced by rage. Her anger boiled, years of convincing herself that she was ok with how things had played out, that she had done the right thing for the right reasons washed away in a sea of red. “Everything I’ve done, every sacrifice I’ve made was to protect you, to help you! I left everything, everyone, to fix what your stupidity and stubbornness had broken. I left my dad, I left him with you. I let you have him and you were supposed to protect him. You were to keep him safe, but you couldn’t do that, could you? It wasn’t bad enough you got your own father killed, you had to do the same with mine.” Her voice began to crack, she didn’t really believe any of what she was saying but she wanted him to hurt, to feel the pain she was feeling.  Her anger was receding giving way to a sense of loss, a loss she had never truly allowed herself to give into. She spoke slower, more quietly when she eventually continued, “Do you know how I found out, how I learned that my father was dead? Her eyes filled with tears but she didn’t break her gaze on him. “A group of hunters were at the table next to me in a dingy bar in the back hole of nowhere. I knew a couple of them by name but of course I was just a stranger, a face in the crowd. I was eavesdropping; trying to get news on you lot as Cas had been AWOL for some time. Then one stood and raised a glass to toast the late great Bobby Singer.  I was completely alone in a world that had forgotten my name, I had no one.”

 

She paused again, the anger having drained the last of her energy. She stared off into the distance and when she continued Dean got the impression she was no longer addressing him. “I always just assumed, naively I suppose, that there would be time. That the world was fair and just and that he would get to remember me even for day or just long enough to say goodbye.” She turned to him once again, her pain and loss for an instant at least turning back to anger. “But I guess that was something else you managed to take from me.” Dean’s mouth opened and closed in an attempt to formulate a response but nothing manifested. The pain she felt, the loss she spoke of were too raw not to be real he could see that clearly now. But more than that, the sheer terror he had caused when he grabbed her, he knew that look, he had seen it before. He had caused it before, it was etched into his mind, it was the fear he saw on the faces of every poor soul he had taken his blade to in hell. It was a look he could never forget. A look, he relished, longed for in the pit but would now wake him in the dead of the night filling him with shame and remorse. Emma hurried away, swiftly turning the corner of the cabin.

 

Dean remained where he was, rooted to the spot, a chill resonating through his body, all the way to his core. He gave himself a minute or two before going back inside, he was still raw from her out burst, and could feel years of repressed guilt sitting back on to his shoulders. He knew he couldn’t simply shake it off, so he decided to carry it with him; it was little penance for what he had done. He had already blamed himself for both John and Bobby’s deaths. However he now had no choice but to believe her, he knew in his heart that if nothing else she certainly believed the story she was telling and if, as he was beginning to suspect, it turned out to be true he had indeed taken her father from her. He slowly made his way back to the cabin; he had managed to piss off both Sam and Emma but with no where else to go, he reluctantly open the door and went in.

 

The Sam and Emma were standing in the kitchen greeting the newly arrived Castiel. Dean’s relief at the angels return was short lived as it was evident from his face he hadn’t arrived with good news.

“I know who is behind your reunion. Abaddon is the one pulling the strings.” He walked into the living room, giving the four of them more space. “I don’t know how or why but I am assuming she originally hoped an impromptu meeting would be enough for the truth to come out or spur you two on to finding the truth out for yourselves.” “We did our best to be honest, but everything led us to a dead end.”  Sam admitted to Cas and Emma. “Never the less” the angel continued, “it turns out she no longer has to rely on your detective skills as she has gotten her hands on a ritual that will restore your missing memories for her. If she pulls this off, you two will remember everything that I have hidden from you, in excruciatingly minute detail, it will not be pleasant.” “Ok” Sam said “So let’s see if Crowley has managed to get his hands on the blade and Dean can take the bitch out.” “Crowley has yet to locate it.” Cas said at the same time Dean said “He hasn’t found it yet.”  Dean looked at the angel surprised that he had details pertaining to the King of Hell but decide to let it go for now.

 “There is more bad news; we are on a tight schedule. Abaddon has to perform the ritual tonight.” “Well that’s just ridiculously convenient, isn’t it.” Emma scoffed. “I find things in life often are.” Cas replied philosophically then added, “We have until eleven sixteen.” Emma spoke again, “And if she was to miss her window of opportunity, what then?” “It would buy us another year.” Cas answered. “So, long enough for Crowley to find the blade and put her down for good.” Dean voiced what Emma was thinking. “We don’t have to kill her, just stop her from finishing the ritual.” He continued. Always the realist Sam interjected, “Do we even know where she is? Is there a particular location she needs to be to pull this off?” “No and no, I’m afraid, I have no way of tracking her and the ritual does not seem to be site specific.” Cas answered.

 

“Right then,” Dean said taking control of the situation, “First things first, get us back to the bunker; there must be something there about locating a Knight of Hell.” Everyone automatically snapped into action, packing up the few belongings they had with them. Collecting his things from around the couch, Dean came across the shoe box. He picked it up and stuffed it into his hold all. Within a couple of minutes they were all ready to go. Cas would move the rest of Emma’s belongs once this was all over and she had a new semi-permanent base; until then they were perfectly safe to remain in the cabin.

 

In a blink they were in the bunker, Emma whistled looking around, “Nice digs boys.” She said, “Really puts the old Singer homestead to shame.” She added spying the library.  They had less than eleven hours to find and stop Abaddon and they spent a good chunk of it pouring through the Men of Letters files, everything they could find about the Knights of Hell and then some

 


	3. Chapter 3

**All Secrets Known**

**Chapter 3**

It was after six when Sam lifted his head from the book he was reading and said, “So this is a bit of a Hail Mary but it might just have a chance of working. I haven’t found how to find Abaddon but and it’s a pretty big but…” Both Emma and Dean spontaneously giggled childishly at Sam’s choice of word. They looked at each other and stopped immediately, turning their attention back to Sam trying to fain seriousness. “Ok, children,” Sam added before he continued “There is a possibility that we could find Josie Sands.” “Who?” Emma asked. “Sam you might just be a genius.” Dean remarked before turning to Emma, “Josie is, no scratch that, was, the poor girl that Abaddon is riding around in.” He paused in case she had any questions, she said nothing so he continued, “Her soul managed to get out when Abaddon left her body allowing her to die. Abaddon some how managed to get the body back but her soul, her soul is free. The day Josie died was the same day; Metatron closed the doors on heaven.” Sam stepped in, “The only problem is there were a few hours between Josie’s death and the doors getting locked. But if she hung around, for whatever reason, if she didn’t make it up in time, then she is still in the veil.” Sam tapped the book in front of him, “According to this, if she is still around her soul is still linked to her body, whether its buried or happens to be walking around trying to take over the world.” Dean turned expectantly to the angel, “Cas do you think you could find her?” he asked. Castiel nodded, please to finally have some good news, “Yes, I believe so, it may take me some time bit if she is in the veil, I should be able to find her before its too late.”

 

With Cas gone, they were again at loose ends. Sam continued to stream through the files in the hope of finding something about the ritual or even a way of slowing her down if the managed to come face to face with her.  Emma took the opportunity to have a wander through the bunker, curious to see how the boys were living. Despite everything she had said earlier she was pleased to see they finally had a place to call home, of sorts. She was walking down a hallway off the sleeping quarters when Dean opened the door of his room.

 

“You got a minute?” he asked. She hesitated, not wanting another argument. He held the door open and simply said, “Please.” She accepted and entered his room. It was sparse, with only a small few personal items doted around the place. He closed the door behind her and sat on the bed, the shoe box next to him, already open. He took out the ticket stub and looked at it in his hands. She nervously sat on the bed next to him, the shoe box the only thing between them. He finally spoke, “I remember going to this concert, I stumbled across it on my way back from a hunt; nobody ever knew I had been there.” She took the ticket out of his hand, “We,” She corrected him “were coming back from tackling a particularly nasty poltergeist in Portland. Sam had just left for Stanford and neither Bobby or John was expecting us back for another day or so.  And if by ‘stumbled’ you mean drove four hundred miles in the opposite direction then yes we stumbled across it.” Dean smiled to himself. He remembered the night fondly although in his memory he had been alone. It was one of those perfect night that were so rare in existence, no hunt, no responsibility, no one to save, pure freedom. He rooted in the box and pulled out another item.

 

“And this?” he handed her the prom picture, “Seriously?” Emma smiled and for an instance there was no trace of pain in her eyes. “Yeah, that.” She said apologetically, “Bobby forced me to go and you to take me. He wanted me to have some sort of a normal life and going to the prom was part of it. Except for the fact that no one was going to ask the crazy chick who could floor anyone on the football team in one move.” She smiled remembering how excited her dad ha

d been when he first saw her in the dress. “Neither of us was given a choice, in the matter and neither of us wanted to disappoint him either.” She looked at the picture and laughed a little. “We pretty much posed for the photo and then left, spent the rest of the night drinking cheap whiskey out the back of the yard.” “In the old Caddy?” Dean asked, “You got it.” She said. “That sounds about right.” He added.

 

  “Dean, I owe you an apology, I didn’t mean anything I said earlier. I was angry, I wanted to lash out at someone, anyone, and you always had a habit of pushing my buttons.” Emma said genuinely sorry for her outburst. “You weren’t wrong,” he managed to say before she stopped him. “Look, Bobby was a hunter, we don’t go peacefully in our sleep, he knew that and so do I. He would have given his life for you and Sam, a thousand times over if he could of.” Dean looked at her as if for the first time since they had met, finally seeing what seemed to come so easily to Sam. This girl was a Singer, she was family whether he remembered her or not, just being around felt right, she seemed to fill a hole that had been there even before Bobby had died. “Dean!” Sam called for somewhere in the bunker, “Get up here.”

 

 They both got up and joined Sam in the library to find Castiel has returned. “I found her.” he said as they entered the room. “Who, Josie or Abaddon?” Dean asked. “Both.” Came the reply. “Awesome, let get going.” Dean said enthusiastically. “No, not yet,” Cas replied. “We only get one shot at this, Abaddon must not finished the ritual, if we strike too early she could flee and complete it else where.” “He’s right; we need to wait until the last minute before we make a move.” Sam added. “Do we have a plan once we get there?” Emma asked looking to Sam who had spent the evening with his head in the Men of Letters files but it was Dean who answered. “Sorry but there is no ‘we’ in this, we have no way of putting Abaddon down, there is no reason for us all to get our asses kicked.” “Right then you stay here cause there is no way in hell I’m taking a knee on this. I’ve been doing this as long as you and to be honest, haven’t died nearly as often as you two. Plus it wasn’t that long ago I took down a couple of Winchester by myself.” Dean looked to Sam for back up. “No way man, don’t try and drag me in to this, I still have scars on my back from her taser. She scares me, I’m not arguing with her.”  Sam then got serious, “Maybe she’s right on this though, about you sitting this one out.” “What are you talking about?” Dean asked. “Without the blade you can’t kill Abaddon but if she manages to take you out before we even get a hold of it, it will all have been for nothing.” The conversation had turned in a direction Dean didn’t like, “Whoa, hold it there, I’m coming, you’re not ditching me on this one.” It was Emma who came to his rescue; “Alright then, I’ll ask again,” knowing full well there was no hope convincing him otherwise, “Do we have a plan?”  “Nothing new unfortunately,” Sam answered, “Devil trap bullets and holy oil are the only things that have managed to slow her in the past and they’re still our best bet.” “So get in, make a big distraction, disrupt the ritual and get out again, simple.” Emma added. “Right, we only have a couple of hours to prep, lets get to it.” Dean ordered

 

Armed to the hilt, they were all ready to go a little before eleven. Not wanting to risk leaving it any later, Cas had already taken them a short distance from the empty building where Abaddon and her minions were hold up in. “I’ve check the area, there are no demons on sentry duty. Inside there is only Abaddon, and four others in a room just off the main entrance.” Cas informed them. “Does this feel a little too easy to anyone else?” Sam asked, “She must have assumed we’d try and stop her.” “Or she is as arrogant as she seems and simply didn’t expect us to be able to find her.” Dean countered. “I’ll agree it does feel like she is just short of leaving a key under the mat for us but we have no other option.” Emma added “We could walk away, let her finish the ritual and deal with the consequences, maybe it will be ok?” Sam suggested meekly. “What the hell man!” Dean snapped, “Bobby agreed to forget his only family to protect us from who knows what and now you think we are going to walk away from the fight because it might be a trap. Have you met us?” Emma was taken back by the conviction in his voice. Less than twenty four hours ago he was threatening to kill her and now he was willing to walk into God only knows what on no more than her word. Once he saw you as family he was loyal to a fault. “Dean’s right, we have no other choice,” she agreed, “It’s now or never, lets go.” She said before anyone else decided it was open for discussion. 

 

Like Castiel had said, they met no resistance as they made their way to the buildings boarded up main door. Loose planks were easily removed, leaving a gap big enough even for someone as tall as Sam to easily stoop through. Cas led the way already knowing the location of the occupied room. The group paused outside the door, Dean now taking control, “Emma, Cas, you two head to the right, Sam and I will go the left,  try and cover as much ground as possible before they get a bead on you.” They all nodded in agreement. Dean began counting to three on his fingers; everyone readied themselves and their weapons. On three he flung the doors open and they rushed in. Any hopes that they held the element of surprise was immediately dashed.

 

Abaddon stood in the centre of the room, flanked on each side by two large military looking demons. All five ready and expecting them. The Demons on the Winchester’s side each waved a hand and the brothers were thrown and pinned against the wall. On Emma’s side they ignored the angel and advanced upon her. She tried to put up a fight but was quickly and easily over powered. They then held her in place, each holding tightly on to her shoulders, her feet barely touching the ground. A quick pat down and they had emptied her pockets and holster of all weapons. Abaddon turned her attention to Castiel. “I could smell your stench a mile away, angel.” She made a show of backing away as he bore down on her.  To his confusion she stopped suddenly and smiled at him. “I see no humour in this situation, you abomination” He said shortly. “That’s the problem with you angels, you watch and watch but fail to ever see what is right in front of you all along.” She said as she flicked a match in his direction. The floor around him lit up and he was encircled in holy fire. 

 

Abaddon turned to Emma who was still fruitlessly struggling against her captors, “You, you’re the missing link, aren’t you. I have been tearing hell and earth apart, trying to figure out how a crossroads demon managed to usurp the throne. And every lead I followed led me to a nameless face. Hunters and demons alike, no matter whose memory I poked away at, it was always the same, there you were, no more than a shadow, a smudge, but there none the less.” She took Emma’s chin in her hand and examined her face up close. ”You are the last piece of the puzzle. You will show me how pond scum like Crowley became the last King of Hell.” “Bite me!” Emma spat, “Oh you’re not my type darling, a little too short, I like ‘em big, like your friend over there.” She shot Sam a look that turned his stomach. “This is about, Crowley?” Dean asked, Abaddon smiled and looked back to Emma, “Well, that’s what we are all her to find out. Let’s see what is bouncing around in that little noggin of yours?”

 

She grabbed the front of Emma’s shirt and tore it open, revealing the anti-possession tattoo on the left side of her chest. “Well, that has got to go.” She said scornfully letting go of Emma and walking over to a table next to Dean and Sam. “You see your angel here did a damn fine job at keeping you from me, I knew sooner or later you would let your guard down but I grew impatient. That bastard, Crowley, really does seem to get on my nerves.” She looked about the table and selected a thick short poker from one side and a blow torch from the other. “You see there never was a ritual,” She looked over at the boys pinned to the wall next to her, “I can’t make you remember anymore than I can make you not be the four most gullible people in the world.” She waved a hand in the general direction of the demons with her, “And to think, this lot thought that picking tonight was too obvious, they feared it would tip my hand. But I guess you are dumber than you look. Like lemmings running head long of a cliff you lot run in here, into battle, without giving it a second thought. She lit the blow torch and began heating the poker. Dean stared at her, realising her plan, “I swear to God, if you lay a hand on her…” “You’ll what?” she cut across him, “You’ll remain where you are and watch helplessly, as her flesh cooks, that’s what. Now stop making idle threats, its only showing your weakness.”

 

The poker was now red hot, placing the torch back on the table she stepped over to Emma, who was desperately trying to break free of the hands holding her in place.  One of the demons grabbed the top of her head with his free hand and yanked it back, pulling her face and chin out of the way, giving Abaddon room to work. Without ceremony the Knight placed the headed metal across Emma’s tattoo. The searing heat was intense and caused her to let out a reflex scream as her skin and the tattoo distorted. Holding it in place a while longer Abaddon waited until enough skin had been burnt. When she was finally satisfied that the tattoo was unrecognisable she removed the poker. Emma’s knees were weak from the heat and the pain but she was held in place effortlessly by the two burley demons. The grip on her head was release and it now hung listlessly towards her shoulder, all of her strength had gone to remaining conscious through the ordeal.

“What do you hope to achieve, Knight?” Castiel demanded, the angel fire dwarfing his normally booming voice. “Her story has no bearing on yours. She is nothing, in the scheme of things. Your fight is with Crowley.” Abaddon stepped towards him, “I am more than a Knight, I am a Queen. And as Queen I must know all the players on the boards, even a lowly pawn such as this. She had a hand in Crowley’s rise and I will know the truth.” She tilted her head back as thick black smoke erupted from her perfectly lipsticked mouth. The cloud travelled across the room to where Emma had unwillingly mirrored Abaddon’s actions and accepted the plume into her.  The demons on either side released her as her eyes blinked black before returning to normal. The men watched in silence as Emma craned her next from side to side and stretched out her arms and fingers.”

 

“Cramped in here.” Was all she said.  For a couple of minutes she didn’t move at all, although it seems as if she was reading from an invisible text, laid out in front of her. Then suddenly the black smoke exited and travelled back, the same route it had taken, to the vacated body across the room. Abaddon stood, happy to be back in her favoured body. “Oh my,” she said, “I have to say that was a revelation, certainly worth the trouble.” as she stomped the distance between her and Emma. The Demons had immediately taken up their post again, holding her in place. As Abaddon reached her she drew up her fist and landed an upper cut, full force onto Emma’s jaw. Her whole head rattled and blood spilled from her mouth and nose. A second blow came before she could focus again making contact with the left side of her face, her eye socket making a sickly cracking sound. Abaddon turned her attention to Emma’s torso, landing punch after punch, breaking ribs and knocking the wind from her. Emma was sure her left lung was punctured but between the hits it was hard to be sure. “Enough! Stop it!” Dean yelled, but Abaddon paid him no heed and continued to pound on Emma, alternating from ribs and back to face until she felt a mild sense of release. She stepped in close to Emma, her lips almost brushing off her ear, “We both know you’ve endured worse.”

She motioned to the demons behind Emma and they roughly dropped her into a nearby chair. Her head dropped limply to her chest as they secured her wrists to the chair. She managed to drag her head semi upright, catching Dean’s eye she mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ to him before her head dropped again.  Abaddon crossed the room once again.

 

“So, you two really don’t remember her at all, do you?” After everything she did for you. A bit of a doormat if you ask me, but who am I to judge.” She directed her attention solely on the older Winchester. “Let me ask you this, Dean, you don’t remember her, that’s fine, but do you still remember hell, don’t you?” A contented smile crossed her lips, she was enjoying this more than she had expected, “Because she does.” She watched Dean’s face, waiting for the moment of realisation. She ran her hand down his chest, caressing it, feeling his heart beat quicken. Emma tried to speak, desperate to stop what was happening but she only managed a couple of groans.  Dean looked from Abaddon to Emma, still not fully understanding what she was alluding to. “Bite me!” he said stealing Emma’s earlier response, hoping it would give her a sense of solidarity, some idea that he was still on her side and that this bitch wasn’t going to break him. “Original.” Abaddon said before she continued.

 

“She was there whole time you were and she remembers every second of.” She turned away from Dean and addressed the whole room, “And here was me, hoping there would be some useful info in her tiny mind about Crowley, little did I know how big a web I was trying to unravel.” She grabbed Emma by the hair and pulled her head back. “As it turns out, it was all her fault, this insignificant whore caused the embarrassment hell has become under his reign, and why?” She pulled a knife out of her pocket and pointed it accusingly at Dean. “To save your mortal soul, “she said in disgust. She looked at Emma’s swollen, bloody face, bringing the knife to her temple she drew it slow down in an arch finishing at her jaw. Emma winced as blood poured from the wound. “She willingly followed you into the pit.” Abaddon said, absently watching the blood pool around Emma’s collar bone. “Thirty years, locked always, in a tiny cell. No light, no noise, no sleep, nothing but hells steaming heat. Damn near lost your mind didn’t you, my dear girl.” She said with mock concern as she drew the blade along Emma’s jaw line, this fresh cut spilled warmth down her chest soaking into her bra and down her stomach. “Then finally the door opened and she was greeted by a familiar face.” Dean’s face was pale with fear and anger in equal measure.  “She thought she was saved, she thought it was all over, that you had come to take her home. But instead you put her on the rack, on your rack.”  

 

She let go of Emma’s hair and turned to Dean. She really was relishing this. Sam watched Dean trying to get a read on whether anything she was saying was true. “She was your first, the soul you broke the first seal on.” “Dean, don’t listen to her.” Sam whispered. “You can’t believe a word she is saying.” Abaddon ignored Sam, advancing on Dean. “But that wasn’t enough; her job wasn’t done yet, not even close. She was your second, your third, your fourth, well you get the gist.” She leaned in close to Dean and ran her bloody blade along his neck causing a shallow cut, enough to sting, but nothing more. “She was the only soul you put your blade to.

Everyday for nearly ten years, it was her and only her you tore at, it was only ever her you sliced, carved and burned.” Dean shook his head in disbelief, “No it couldn’t have been.” “Oh but it was, but wait it get only gets better from here. It was all orchestrated by your good buddy, Castiel.” She paused letting this sink in; when she didn’t get a reaction she pushed further. “He chose to send your oldest and most loyal friend, to toss your first love’s soul into the pit, just to save yours.  Dean looked at Cas through the roar of holy fire, begging him to tell him that none of this was true. “And why?” Abaddon said, “Because hid God supposedly commanded it.” “It wasn’t like that, Dean; it was for the greater good. It had to be her, there was no other way.” Castiel pleaded. “How about you shut the hell up angel, haven’t you done enough?” Abaddon yelled at him, slamming her blood soaked hand down on to the table, where an angel banishing sigil had already been prepared. Castiel was enveloped by a blinding white light and was gone.

 

Composing herself, Abaddon said, “Ok, so where was I…, oh yes. So your buddy teamed up and made a deal with a slimy crossroads demon, one that had aspirations far above his station. It was simple, get Little Miss Martyr here in to hell and ensure no other soul crossed your rack. In return when the Michael defeated Lucifer, hell would be his.” Sam looked to Dean who seemed to be lost in a world of despair and shame; instead he spoke to Abaddon asking, “Why?” Dean snapped out of his self pity at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Easy, every soul you brother cut into would destroy a piece of his own, eventually leaving no humanity at all, creating a demon. As a demon, he could not be rescued from hell, and Michael would have no vessel. Not the one he wanted, anyway.” Abaddon stood beside Emma, who was staring at the brothers doing her best to ignore the Knight next to her. She should have told them, she should never have brought them her, she wanted desperately to tell Dean that it was her choice, that it was alright but she could say nothing, do nothing but stare as their world fell apart.

 

“But one soul,” Abaddon patted Emma’s head, “Even a thousand times, was only one scar on yours, plenty for the angels to work with. When they did finally manage to rip you both free, you had no idea what she had done for you, no one did. Sam had been AWOL, Bobby thought she was too. He had been sick worry, but you were all so glad to be back together, no one really questioned it. Until Alistair, that is. Until he told you the truth about everything, about the first seal and about the only soul you tortured in hell. You crumbled, Bobby, your pretend daddy, despised you, wanted you dead, if truth be known.”

 

Emma finally managed to find her voice. “That’s not true, Dean, he loved you, he was just hurting, he would never have…” Abaddon drove her elbow into Emma’s already broken ribs to shut her up. “Beat you to a pulp, like father like son, I suppose.” “Shut your mouth, you whore.” Emma yelled but this time Abaddon only laughed at the interruption, “There’s that fire, I was wondering how someone like you managed to last so long in my domain.” She turned back to Dean, “But that was exactly what you wanted, you want him to kill you, you didn’t lift a hand in your defence.” Again she approached Dean, “There was no coming back from this. Everyone you loved either feared or hated you. Even Sammy here, bless him, he tried to convince you it wasn’t your fault, but you could see how differently he looked at you. And Emma, good old selfless fool that she is, although still by your side, had to fight herself not to wince at your touch or even be in the same room as you.” Abaddon glanced at Emma but continued to speak directly to Dean. “She still has nightmares of her time down there with you.” Dean looked at Emma, tears in his eyes, he said nothing, what could he say?

 

“But, it was you,” Abaddon said tapping the tip of her blade against his chest. “It was you, who played the final hand. You, who made the final decision, you put the muzzle of your .44 into your mouth and pulled the trigger.” Tears streamed down Emma’s face, she never wanted Dean to have to remember any of this. Sam looked at his brother in shock, unable to image Dean giving up like that.  He knew he carried his demons with him but could he really have taken his own life. “The angels had other plans for you however and suicide wasn’t part of them. Within a couple of days you were back in the land of the living. That was when she knew what had to done, she had to go, to be forgotten. Otherwise there was no way to prevent the apocalypse.” Abaddon shook her head in disgust, “Again, she sacrificed everything to save you.” The Knight’s narration was interrupted by a commanding voice coming from the open door way. “Abaddon!”

 

Cain stood before them, the first blade gripped firmly in his hand. He looked angry and ready to pounce. Her four minions stepped towards him but in a flash of red they disappeared, leaving nothing behind them but blood stained clouds of dust. “Cain!” Abaddon replied, obviously shaken at the sight of her old commander. “No, you don’t speak,” he boomed, “I’m assuming you have done enough of that already.” She looked around the room, “I’ve gotten what I came for.” To the Winchesters she said. “We’ll pick this up another time, boys.” Then turning to Emma, she added, “However, we’re done.” She drove her blade deep into Emma’s chest and gave it a twist for good measure. “That’s for ruining hell, bitch.”  Again Emma felt the warmth of her blood spill across her skin. Pulling it out again, she gave Cain an obstinate look and disappeared. 

 

Dean and Sam now released from the forces pinning them to the wall rushed to Emma. “Get her untied.” Dean said hurriedly, “Clear the table.” He added once, she was free. He picked her up as Sam swept everything on to the floor. Dean carried her over and laid her down gently upon it. He placed his two hands on her chest, doing his best to stem the blood loss.  Sam turned to Cain, “Can you help her?” He asked. “You must be Sam, nice to meet you and no, Father of Murder and all that. No healing just death and destruction.” Still holding onto Emma, Dean turned his neck to look at Cain, “You have the blade, why didn’t you give it to me, I could have finished this, I could have saved her!” Cain looked at the jaw bone in his hand, “This, this old thing is a fake your friend Crowley had whipped up.  He figured it would be enough to spook her, buy you guys some time.” He looked at Emma. “But it seems it was too little too late. I’m truly sorry about your friend.”

 

“Dean” Emma said hoarsely, “I’m here,” he said turning to her, “I’m so sorry for everything.” “Shut up for a second” she interrupted, “Let me say my piece.” She lifted her hand and placed it on Deans. “What Abaddon told you, truth or not, it’s just a story, it doesn’t have to be yours.” She coughed as blood pooled in the back of her throat. “You’re memory, real or fake, is the reality that lets you get out of bed in the morning, to continue to doing the good you do. Hold on to that reality, own that story, don’t let Abaddon’s story own you.” “Everything I did, to you,” Dean closed his eyes, “to Bobby.” She cut him off again. “Bobby died loving you; he died with two loving sons by his side. He was so proud of both of you. And Cas, don’t blame Cas, he was always straight with me, I knew what I was signing up for. The angels didn’t expect you to hold out a year let alone thirty. Every time you told Alistair no, you were protecting me, you just didn’t know it.” Her breathing was getting shallow and words came slower. “Following you into hell, I never regretted it. I would have done it for either of you, my boys, my brothers.” Sam placed a hand gently on her forehead, smiling at her through his tears wiping it clean of her blood and sweat.

 

Dean turned back to Cain, “Can you get us to a hospital at least?” he asked. It was Sam who answered, his voice cracking with emotion. “It’s too late.” He whispered, Dean looked at his brother “She’s gone.” Sam confirmed. Dean looked his brother in the eyes and shook his head; He slowly looked down at Emma, who was staring blankly at the roof beyond him. “No!” Dean yelled in a rage, picking up the chair next to him and hurling it across the room. “No.” he repeated more softly. Taking Emma’s battered face in his hands and placing his cheek next to hers, his tears flowing freely. “Please, no.” he whispered one last time.

 

Cain had left, the brothers sat silently with Emma’s body through the night waiting for the angel to return. The sun came up and cast dusty shadows through the room. “Dean.” Sam said finally lifting his head. His brother didn’t answer. “She’s right, you know.” “Don’t Sam,” he muttered, “I don’t want to hear you tell me it wasn’t my fault.” Dean pleaded quietly. “Ok, I won’t, although blowing a hole in your skull was a dick move, I’ll give you that.” Dean put his face in his hands, but said nothing. “But that wasn’t what I was going to say.” Dean didn’t move. “She was right about your story, your history, remember the one you have, crappy and broken as it is, it’s enough.” Sam looked at Dean wishing he knew what was going on in his head. “We’ll keep doing what we’ve been doing. Kill Abaddon and Gadreel; get the doors to heaven unlocked. Then you can break, wallow all you like in self pity and hatred” Dean was hurt by his brothers cold matter of factness but he still remained silent. “Until then, all you heard today was some cock and bull story from a crazy blood thirsty bitch.” Things between them had been a little more than strained lately but hearing Sam talk like this, completely detached left Dean feeling more isolated and alone than ever before. He wiped his cheeks and ran his hand across his mouth but simply nodded.  They returned to their silence, each brother trapped in their own solitude,

 

It was another few of hours before Castiel returned. He walked silently to Emma’s body but didn’t speak.  Dean stood to face him. “You sent her to hell, you son of bitch.” The angel looked up at him but still remained silent. Dean threw a punch that would have floored a human. Castiel’s head snapped back an inch or two but no more. “There was no other way to ensure your safety, your soul.” Dean dropped his head and closed his eyes. “Why? Why her?” his hand motioned in the direction of Emma but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “No stranger could have endured what she went through. And Sam, well, Sam was already known to Lucifer and those in hell, there was no one else, no one strong enough. Without breaking his gaze on Dean, the angel’s hand moved from his side and took Emma’s in his. “She was my friend, she was extraordinary, I will miss her too.” “But the veil, she in there, surely you can bring her back.” Sam asked hopefully. “I am sorry, Sam, cut off from Heaven, I no longer possess such power, resurrection is not an option.” Dean turned away from the angel finally bringing himself to look at Emma’s lifeless body.  The pain was so raw he found it hard to breathe.

 

After giving Emma, the same hunter funeral, they had her father no so long ago, they returned to the bunker. The brothers avoided each other, neither in the mood of company or to talk. Sam headed down to the archives with a couple of beers, not looking for anything in particular. He was reeling from what he had heard, what had happened to his surrogate family, how it had been torn apart. He didn’t want to, but right now he was blaming it all on Dean and was sure he would regret what he might say if the matter was pressed.

 

Dean stood in the doorway of his room; frozen, staring at the shoebox that was where he and Emma had left it the night before. He eventually forced himself to cross the threshold and sat next to the box, his hand instinctively placed where Emma had last been, willing her to return. He took the box and upended it on to the bed, moving the pictures around until he spied what he was looking for. He picked up the ring and twisted it around between his fingers looking closely at it. For the first time he noticed an inscription along the inside. ‘ES & DW – 1996’. He bit his lip to an attempt to stifle the tears that filled his eyes. He slowly put the ring on his middle finger, it fit perfectly. He picked up the prom photo and looked at the smiling faces of their teenage selves. Running his finger across her face, he said, “You will always be part of my story, Emma Singer.”

 

\- The End -

 


End file.
